The Art of Snake-Charming
by Okami of the Cheese
Summary: Raddy West is the Wizarding World's only hope of salvation. The only problem: to save her world she must go back in time to another war, another society, another set of rules to play by. And she's playing with one of the most dangerous wizards in her history, who also happens to be her roommate. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter One: Ward of Hogwarts

**Hello everyone, and thank you for taking the time to read this. It has been a while since i have written anything, as I have been struggling with my writing since laptop got stolen and my work disaparated. So this is my trying to write my story of by memory, and so of course it won't be the same :) But new adventures right?**

 **EDIT: I did a brush up on the research and discovered I got my dates wrong. Dumbledore defeated Grindelward in 1945 apparently, so I've rolled back the years this is set in to 1944. Because time is linear of course, and how can an event that hasn't happened yet have already happened?**

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Chapter One: Ward of Hogwarts

Raddy West sat tensely in an over-padded chair in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, watching the Headmaster converse with a very young, auburn haired Albus Dumbledore. She clutched her hands together to keep them from shaking, and jammed them on her knees to prevent them from jiggling. She couldn't give away how rattled she truly was. She fingered the hem of what was left of her pale yellow dress, absently noting that there was blood mixed in with the dirt and dust embedded in the material. Her curly hair hung limply atop her shoulders, streaked with ash, grime and muck. Her face and exposed skin didn't fare any better, and she was rather conscious of the fact that she wasn't wearing any shoes, and her feet were covered in sores and blisters to the point they were rubbed raw and bleeding a little onto the rug.

It didn't help that sitting in an identical chair next to her was the most impeccably presented young man she had ever met. He was tall and wiry, which told her he was athletic to some degree. His skin was without flaws and rather pale, telling her that he was mostly an indoor inhabitant. His face was angular and his cheeks slightly sunken, telling her he regularly skipped meals, whether by purpose or accident. His neatly folded hands atop his lap told her of his composure; the fact that he had found her in her current state, racing across the grounds towards the castle in the late evening, looking like a victim from a warzone (which technically, she was, just not in this time) and near to breaking down hadn't appeared to have bothered him in the slightest. His steel grey eyes hard and calculating told her that he was detached. His wavy hair slicked back told her he was exacting, calculated, and logical. No hair out of place. No plan without thoughtful execution. Giving him a sideways glance, she watched him briefly as he watched the conversation play out. He gave nothing away, except for a minute clench of his fists when he realized where the conversation was going.

She looked back to Dumbledore and Dippet, and noted that both were smiling sympathetically at her. Dippet cleared his throat. "Thank you Tom, for rescuing this young lady." He turned to Raddy. "Now Miss…"

It took her a moment to reply. "Pamela West, sir." She cringed at the use of her first name; she'd found it to be far too old fashioned for her tastes. Her mother had never explained why she had given her that name, except to say that one day she would find that it would suit her. She inwardly sighed at the irony of it.

"Miss West, you have seen dire times recently, and are in a state of distress and have suffered immensely. Hogwarts will take you in as a refugee of this war, and you will become a ward of the school. Because you are not a student, you will stay in the Head Girl's quarters—she is absent due to a bereavement and we are not expecting her to be back at Hogwarts this year. You may attend classes—how old are you my dear?"

"Eighteen sir."

"You may attend classes if you would wish to. You are the right age to be a seventh year, so you are more than welcome to join in."

"That would be a welcome way to pass my time sir." She inclined her head, fighting the adrenaline still coursing around her body. Because of her condition it tended to have a longer lasting effect.

Dippet smiled widely, though she noticed that while Dumbledore was smiling as well, he had a suspicion in his eyes that she couldn't seem to fathom. In her own time, Dumbledore had never been suspicious of her. Despite her faults, he had only ever shown her kindness and welcome. But he had also pushed her to the limits of her abilities and sent her on a madman's endeavour in the past. "That's settled then. We can have a timetable made for you tomorrow. For now, Tom will take you to the Hospital Wing to Madame Claire to get you seen to."

Both men bid her a good night, and she and Tom stood and left the Headmaster's office. It was unnerving walking next to him, being so close to the presence that would later devastate the Wizarding World two times over. He kept sending her what appeared to be sneaky side-glances at her, though it wasn't quite as subtle as he thought it was. The hairs on the back of her neck stood every time she felt his quick gaze, but she ignored it as best she could. Several silent minutes later they arrived at the Hospital Wing to find it empty. He stood waiting for the matron to come out and attend to them, and she shifted awkwardly next to him. The room was dimly lit by candles and eerily quiet. It cast their shadows long against the cool stone floor in warped patterns. A moment or two later the door to the office opened and the matron bustled out wearing her nightclothes. She had tied her work apron over top, but it was clear from her state of dress that she had been trying to get an early night.

She was an older woman, blonde hair turning grey, haughtily tall, but with kind brown eyes. She glanced at Raddy, and then at the young man next to her. Then she did a quick sweep of the bedraggled girl in front of her, and her eyes widened. She wordlessly ushered Raddy to a bed part way down the Wing, and urged her onto the bed. Once she was lying down the matron turned to the Tom, who was still standing in the doorway. "What happened Mr. Riddle?" Her voice was soft, but had a strength lying underneath.

"I found her outside the castle on the grounds like this ma'am. Dippet has already seen her, and she is to be a ward of Hogwarts." He was cool and collected, never once sparing her a glance as he spoke. She was glad for it; she didn't think she could handle another cold glare tonight. Not with the state she was in.

The matron nodded. "Very well. You may go now Mr. Riddle." He nodded and wordlessly pivoted on his heel and made his exit. She turned to Raddy. "Now young lady, what is your name and what happened to you?"

Raddy swallowed. She didn't think she was ready to talk about that. It was too soon, and too devastating. "My name is Pamela West ma'am. And… this happened in the war. There was an attack on my village, and I barely made it out alive. I tried to fight with my family, but they were all killed… so I ran to Hogwarts. My parents always told me that it was safe here." Hopefully the story her and the future Dumbledore concocted would be enough.

Madame Claire nodded and ran several diagnostic spells over her, and tutted. "You are otherwise unscathed, aside from your feet and a few cracked ribs. In other words, you are quite lucky. How long have you been running my dear?"

Raddy thought on this a while. This was a result of many weeks running and a grueling final battle against the epitome of evil. "About three weeks I think. Time was hard to keep a track of."

While she spoke, Madam Claire had healed her feet, and now there was just a dull ache where the spell had healed her. "You can clean yourself in the bathroom while I find you something to wear, and a potion to help your ribs." Raddy smiled her thanks, and she motioned for her to get up. She followed the matron to a door at the back of the Wing, and opened it. There were candles lit everywhere around the small but adequate bathroom. She nodded to the matron, who shut the door behind Raddy. The girl let go of what little composure she had and sank to the floor. She placed a hand to her chest, where the small sphere of the Time Turner she had been given by the future Dumbledore sat.

It was how she had gotten here. It was how she was getting home once she had completed her mission. But it was tempting to just abandon it all and twist the dial and return home. She choked on a sob and hugged her torso. What home? There was no home to go back to. That was why she was _here_. Dumbledore wouldn't have sent her unless there was no other way. The entirety of the future rested on her shoulders alone, and she could tell no one except for Dumbledore. She reached down to her skirt of her dress into a pocket and pulled out a crumpled, dirty letter. The dress wasn't hers. It was stolen from someone's washing line the moment she had landed in the past. She had shucked her dirty jeans and jacket for the yellow dress, transfigured a pocket in the skirt of the dress and put her letter in it. She had tucked the Time Turner underneath the dress, and started walking, to find out how far she had come back, and how far she was away from Hogwarts.

As it had turned out, she was in Scotland somewhere, not far from Hogwarts. A week's walk, to be exact. But in the little town she had passed through she had found a newspaper with the date on it. September 2nd 1944, Tom Riddle's seventh and final year at Hogwarts before he left and there was no turning back from the monster he would become. That had been approximately a week ago now. She had accumulate grime and dirt from having to sleep on the hard ground, and the dress hadn't fared very well from the rough treatment. She hadn't bathed in goodness knows how long, and her bones were aching for the warmth of the water. She took a breath, steeled her mind, and began the process of running herself a bath.

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Raddy sighed as she tugged at the hem of the light brown dress that Madame Claire had given her, transfigured from her own wardrobe. It was incredibly comfortable, and had pockets in the front. The top half of the dress was button down, and stopped at the waist where a bow was tied around at the back through belt loops. The skirt flowed nicely and the material felt like cotton. She had been given the all clear to leave the hospital wing after she had passed a physical exam, and Dumbledore had come to fetch her. She was now seated in his office, feeling alien as he peered at her suspiciously over his half-moon glasses.

"Miss West." His tone was enquiring, and she glanced up at him, her brown curls bouncing around her shoulders. "Why are you really here Miss West?"

"I don't follow sir." She replied softly.

He sighed, and at that moment she could see the age behind the eyes. It seemed as if he was an older mind in a younger body. He seemed far less carefree than his future self. "I do not doubt that you are a victim of war, judging from the state of your arrival." She shifted uncomfortably. "But I ask you this. What brought you to Hogwarts? If you have never been here before, how did you know the direction in which to come?"

"I…I have a rather good sense of direction." Raddy replied, and she almost winced at the hesitance that even she could hear in her voice.

He frowned. "You came through the Forbidden Forest, Miss West. Not many who go in there—especially not knowing what it is—come out as unscathed as you. These are dark times, and dark, unspeakable things live in those woods." He leaned forward, resting his chin on the tip of his steeped fingers. "What are you Miss West?"

She gulped and fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. She felt the crumpled letter in her pocket, and shut her eyes briefly. When she opened them, she looked him in the eye unwavering, leaning on her inner strength to hold his gaze. She removed the letter from her pocket and raised it, offering it to him. He arched a brow and took it, looking it over first before opening the tattered envelope. He read the letter in silence, emotion never wavering from curious. Once he had finished, he folded the letter away into his robes and looked back at her. She met his gaze after a moment, wondering where this would leave her. She had not actually read the letter. She had been told by future Dumbledore that this letter was all that was needed to convince his past self of her sincerity, her condition, and her mission. And he seemed to have been right; the look in his eyes that met hers wasn't suspicion, but understanding and trust.

"I wasn't sure how you would react sir, but I am glad you believe the letter." She said evenly.

"It seems things are more dire than I feared." His brow creased. "You are the only one sent back here?"

"Yes sir. First I have a question. About my…uh, my _furry problem_ …may I use the forest?" Raddy felt like she was on the edge of her seat, but remained motionless.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "You may. I will alert Madame Claire only to your situation as well, for your safety and others." He paused for a moment. "Have you any idea how you will go about your task?"

Raddy shook her head. "No sir."

"Very well. I will assist you in whatever way I can. Do you like reading, Miss West?"

Raddy frowned at the odd request. "Yes sir."

He smiled. "I might have something of interest to you, something to spend your time on." He rose from his seat and disappeared briefly through a door, before returning with a heavy, dusty tomb. He handed it to her, and she inspected the cover briefly, using her fingers to delicately sweep the dust from the title of the leather bound book.

She arched a brow at it and looked up at the older man. "This is Latin. Is this a complete Latin text sir?"

"Indeed. It is an old text of mine on ancient magicks. I thought you might spend your spare time devising the text. There are parts that are barely legible, you see, even to a wizard's eye." His smile sparkled in his blue eyes.

 _Oh._ Understanding crept into her thoughts. "I see. I suppose I can translate this for you sir. It may take some time."

"There are only a few sections that requiring translating, though they are quite lengthy sections. Several around twenty to thirty pages."

"It shouldn't be a problem sir. Thank you."

"Not at all. Now, I shall show you to your rooms."

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The Heads' rooms were rather quaint, in Raddy's opinion. She liked the feeling of solitude, though she could understand how the room could feel at night time. In the mid-morning light of the sitting room, it was a cozy atmosphere. The plush blue sofa opposite the fireplace seemed content to be there, awaiting the evening where it would be curled up on with a good book next to a blazing fire. There was a large bay window opposite the portrait hole, with window seats and a few cushions. On either side of bay window was a door. On each door was a golden plaque, one reading _'Head Boy'_ and the other _'Head Girl'_. Well, that made it easy.

She made her way over to her new room and opened the door. It was a plain room, with white drapes and clothes hanging from the windows and the four poster bed. She supposed that was because she wasn't actually a student. There was a desk next to the window, so she set the text down on the surface, and pulled out the timetable Dumbledore had given her, and set that on top of the tomb. She took her time to look around. The bed was opposite the window and the desk. Beside the desk was a dresser; on the other side of the bed was empty space and a blank wall save for a door to the side. There was a side table on either side of the bed, and the wall beside the door held a modest bookshelf, which was empty aside from what appeared to be the seventh year school books according to the curriculum. The majority of the floor was covered in a brown rug, which was soft to stand on and quite a nice change from the cold stone. Going over to the door on the other side of the room, she opened it to find a cozy little ensuite bathroom, equipped with a wash basin, a toilet and a bathtub.

She walked back out into the bedroom and left the bathroom door open. She paused for a moment to take it all in. This room was hers for the next year. She was going to be living next to a very young Lord Voldemort for the next year. She would have to deal with her transformations without Wolfsbane for the next year. She would have to fit in and somehow complete her mission before summer rolled around. She sighed a pinched the bridge of her nose. This was going to be one hell of a challenge. She hoped that she would have a slightly bigger wardrobe. She would have to ask Dumbledore if she would be allowed to go out and buy a few things to tide her over in terms of clothes and books.

She was brought out of her musings by the creaking open of the portrait hole and the clipped footsteps of who she assumed to be her roommate. She padded over to her door and peered out into the common room, to see Toom Riddle pacing in front of the fireplace. He had a knapsack slung over his shoulder, and as he made a pass by the sofa he slung it carelessly onto it, and a book or two slipped out of the top. He continued to pace while ignoring her, probably not realizing she was there. His jaw was clenched and she could smell the anger wafting around his core, where his body had retracted most of his body heat. He was hyped up from something, and his body was reacting accordingly. She wondered what could be causing it. A moment later she heard a second set of footsteps and she had to pause a moment as a long haired Draco Malfoy strode through the portrait hole, looking rather flippant, if also a little out of breath.

"My Lord, what's bothering you?" Malfoy asked carefully. From his stance she could tell he was being defensive and watchful of his peer, and she wondered just how dangerous he was at this stage to his own followers. She shook the thought; he had to start _somewhere_ if he was to be an evil, maniacal psychopath in fifty years.

Riddle shot him a dark look. "Abraxas, please don't play stupid. Dumbledore is what's bothering me. He's even more suspicious of me than before; I will have to be extra diligent if I wish to avoid his detection." He paused in his pacing and walked over to the bay window and Malfoy followed. The older, yet young, Malfoy who was to be Draco's grandfather in the future. "And now I have that little girl to worry about. I should have _known_ Dippet would do that." She heard him clench his teeth and seethed a bit at being called a 'little girl', and tried to keep a lid on her annoyance. She had lived through a war at his hand, faced off against his Death Eaters first hand; what had _he_ done for _his_ war? Nothing but hide in this godforsaken castle.

"My Lord, the girl shouldn't be a problem, should she? She is only a ward of Hogwarts, not a student."

"That's the _point_ Abraxas. She _isn't_ a student, which means she can go where she pleases and do what she likes, without adhering to the rules. Do you understand now? She is a ward, protected from the bloody war. She's not a student, she doesn't have to follow the same rules we do."

Malfoy paused a moment. "I see… I do apologise for making assumptions."

"As you should. Now leave, I have work to do." With the abrupt end to the conversation, Malfoy made a swift exit and she heard Riddle sigh before coming back into vision to pick up his knapsack and heading towards his door, shutting it behind him. She bit her lip and shut her own door, turning to face her room and her new life as a ward of Hogwarts.

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 **Thank you for reading to the end of the chapter!**

 **Please leave feedback, as this always helps me to improve my writing and potentially think of new directions for the story to go in.**

 **Enjoy the rest of your day :)**


	2. Chapter Two: Shopping

**Hello everyone, and thank you so much for the reviews, favourites and follows so far! It is very heartening to know that even in a short amount of time it has become liked. This chapter was hoping to be written and put up by next week, but I was inspired, and so it got done early. Not a terribly bad thing, mind you.**

 **Please let me know what you think, and if you find any mistakes (I feel as though I let a few slip through this time) and if there are any improvements that could be made. (I am aware that even after three years I tend to waver a bit from what I intended to write) So if you find an odd moment or something that just doesn't make sense, please let me know so i can fix it. I do want to improve it as much as I can, but I am also aware that if it is fiddled with too much it will lose it's raw, aliveness.**

 **So please enjoy :)**

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Chapter Two: Shopping

Raddy sighed as she made her way down the main lane of Hogsmeade. The shoes she was wearing were biting into her toes, but no matter how she transfigured them they wouldn't fit right. Maybe she was just better without shoes anyway. But for the first visit she had to at least appear normal. She hugged her torso and noted the goose bumps on her arms. She hated that she needed to go shopping, but with only a borrowed dress to her name even she could see the need of the situation. Dumbledore strode beside her, silent and watchful.

They passed a few building fronts that she didn't pay attention to, she just kept her head ducked down and watched her poor feet crunch through the leaves. Dumbledore had managed to get permission from Dippet for her to go out on a shopping quest, on the condition that he attended her and paid for it. Dippet was quite content that he didn't need to pay for anything, and so granted the request happily. She had to say, she was starting to not like the Headmaster. She could see why Dumbledore was so serious and seemed to treat the older man like a child.

It was a few more minutes before Dumbledore touched her shoulder to grab her attention. She glanced up, and he pointed ahead of them to a shop front that had dresses and hats in the display window. She sighed and nodded, and he briefly mentioned something about being in a bookstore while she did what she needed to, and handed her a couple of coins. She pocketed them and set off, suddenly alone in a familiar alien place. Everything seemed to be almost deserted. There was hardly anyone walking about, though they didn't seem perturbed by the fact there was a war on, just a little concerned at the most. Obviously the war hadn't reached Hogsmeade just yet. She entered the clothes shop and the tinkle of the bell sounded in the empty shop. She looked around at the racks of clothing. Most were full of wizarding robes, but she spied a few that looked like normal clothing.

She browsed for a moment, and found several dresses to her liking, which looked identical to the one she was currently wearing. She mused that Madam Claire must also shop here, and smiled to herself as she fingered the material gently, the feel of new and the scent of crisp tingling at the edge of her senses. It had been so long since she had had something new to call hers. Everything recently had been borrowed or stolen, something that was just _hers_ would be nice. There were many colours among the racks. Blues, purples, reds, yellows. She pulled several of her chosen dresses off the rack and made her way through the maze to the counter. She noted out of the corner of her eye that there was a shopkeeper hovering nearing the back of the shop, a look of disbelief in her eye. She was dressed in wizarding robes, but they were rather subdued and set off her bright red hair quite splendidly.

She placed the pile of dresses on the countertop and trailed a finger along the edge, musing at the smooth grain and polish of the wood. She avoided the gaze of the shopkeeper deliberately, getting a prickling feeling on the nape of her neck that her presence was both a wonderful occurrence and a startling interruption. All the colours she had chosen for herself were subdued as well; pastel colours of blue, red, yellow and lilac. There was a green in there as well, she spied. She looked up as the woman flitted over to her, standing in uncertainty behind the counter. Raddy noted she was young; not much older than herself. But the look in her eyes whispered of an ancient presence which must have seen much turmoil and destruction in its time. She was deathly pale, and her eyes startlingly bright green. Her lips were slightly parted in shock, and Raddy cocked her head at the pointed incisors sparkling white. Her eyes widened. She inhaled deeply, and the pungent scent of vanilla masking sickly-sweet decay assaulted her nose, chocking her. She couldn't help the sneeze that followed, and the woman across from her seemed uncertain of what to do with herself. There was a conviction in her eyes.

"Was that all today miss?" Her voice was carefully schooled into polite enquiry.

"Yes thank you." Raddy struggled to speak as another sneeze tore through her. The woman dutifully and stiffly served Raddy, while she sneezed yet again, struggling to stop the tickling feeling in her nostrils. Once her dresses had been bagged and paid for, Raddy straightened as much as she was able to and held a hand over her nose. "Do you sell cardigans?"

The woman nodded and flitted around the counter to a rack near to the back of the shop. "They're not very popular with the pureblood wizards and witches." She glanced sideways as Raddy approached, still uncertain of how to conduct herself. Torn between helping her customer as a dutiful shopkeeper and turning Raddy away in disgust.

"That's fine. I just need something to keep me warm." Painstakingly, they spent the next half an hour going through the rack together, the woman showing her cardigans and jumpers and Raddy turning each one away for one reason or another. They were both about to give up when she pulled out a small blue button-down with a weave pattern down the front. It was a man's cardigan, judging by the thickness of the weave, but it didn't itch to the touch and when Raddy tried it on it was slightly baggy and she had to roll the sleeves up twice to be able to see her fingers peeking through. She smiled up at the woman, and nodded. She sighed in relief.

"How much?" Raddy asked.

"Honestly, this is the most painful sale I've ever been through. Just take it." The woman started ushering her towards the counter, careful not to step too close.

Raddy nodded in agreement. "Likewise." She picked up her bag and went to turn around, but swivelled back to the woman at the last second. "Thanks for not killing me."

The woman blinked in shock, startled that a sworn enemy would even think of saying something like that. "Likewise."

Raddy smiled warmly. "My name is Pamela, but I prefer to be called Raddy."

She blinked again. "Samantha."

Raddy held out her hand hesitantly to shake, and it was a moment before Samantha reached out to do the same. They both flinched on contact, and let go a moment later. But that was better than either had achieved in their life considering what they would normally have done to each other given slightly different circumstances. "Thank you for helping me today. Can I drop by again sometime?" She thought it best to ask permission again. This was after all, Samantha's store. And if Samantha didn't want her back again, she would understand.

Samantha hesitated a moment, then inclined her head. "I would be glad of company, whatever form it came in."

Raddy nodded her head, and took that as her sign to leave, and exited back into the street. She paused outside the storefront and buttoned up her new cardigan before heading off in the direction of what looked to be a bookstore.

* * *

Raddy let herself back into the Heads' dorm quietly, not wishing to disturb Riddle if he was in. She didn't feel like tangling with him just yet. She had only been here a couple of days, but she still hadn't worked out how to approach him. Or even how to go about executing a plan. Or thinking and finalising a plan. So far she was still at a loss about how to go about her mission, and was not appreciating the lack of forward momentum. She was playing the part of ward very well though, considering all that was different was a time displacement. She truly was a victim of war, and being protected behind the walls of Hogwarts instead of defending them was a nice, placid change.

She carried her bags to her room, regretting now after climbing what seemed like thousands of staircases, that she hadn't allowed Dumbledore to shrink her new belongings so they would be easier for her to carry. It wasn't the amount that was a bother, it was the weight of the books, and she wondered what good her magic was if she didn't bloody use it for what it was good for. She let herself into her room and went about putting away her new things, listening out for Riddle should he turn up again after classes for the afternoon. So far she had neglected to even look at her timetable that had been given to her, but she would get around to it eventually. She needed to somehow get closer to Riddle, or figure out how to spend more time with him. The more time she invested in being around him, she might just find a way into that dark mind of his and unravel a secret or weakness—and then she might be able to form a plan to take him down. She scoffed and shook her head at herself as she hung her dresses up in the armoire. Yeah right like he had any weaknesses to exploit.

She paused a moment and thought about it. Maybe…maybe he did. No one had discovered them yet. No wait… wait… She hurriedly hung up the rest of the dresses and searched through the remaining couple of bags for the leather bound case that she had bought at the bookstore. She pulled it out once she had found it and sat at the desk, opening it and bringing a loose leaf of parchment onto the desktop. She opened the drawer next to her and pulled a quill and inkpot out—which she had found yesterday in a more thorough search of the room—and set to work. She scribbled all over the page non-stop, barely lifting the quill to even dip it in ink. When it got too dark, she paused only long enough to light a candle before continuing. When she ran out of room on the parchment she flustered around to find another blank one.

When she finally did stop in the wee hours of the morn, the candle wick was almost snuffed and her hand was both covered in ink and cramped into one position. She hissed as it groaned as she stretched it out, and looked over the papers strewn over her desk. She smiled softly at her work, and gathered all the papers together and slipped them into the leather case, stashing the case on the bookshelf. She stood and clicked her back, allowing her tired, stiff muscles some respite. She padded around the room to get some feeling back into her legs as her mind buzzed.

She had written down everything she knew. Everything Dumbledore had told her in their brief meetings, about Tom Riddle, about the dark arts, about horcruxes. Everything she knew by proxy of being a student attending school with Harry Potter, who seemed to attract Voldemort at every step of the way. Harry had been connected to Voldemort by some way; his mother had sacrificed herself to save her son. Everyone knew the story… but what about how Harry—as an infant—had been able to stop the Dark Lord, the most dangerous, dark wizard of their time. The answer lay within his mother. She knew a mother would do anything and everything to protect her young, her children. Raddy's mother had done just that for her, she understood the bond between a mother and child. She had a relationship with her parents. Neither Voldemort nor Harry had that relationship, neither had felt a mother's love. Voldemort had been left in an orphanage, and Harry had been left at his aunt and uncle's, which was as good as.

The huge difference was that in that moment of Lily Potter sacrificing herself for Harry, she had given her life, her love, her soul to save him. She had given everything selflessly, wholesome and pure. This manifestation of her love for Harry had saved him, because Voldemort hadn't understood it. Couldn't touch that kind of magic.

Raddy padded over to the door and shut it completely, before head over to the bathroom to get ready for bed. She ran a bath and sank into the warmth, allowing it to wash over her and ease the aches. She closed her eyes and chased her thoughts around, piecing the parts together. Voldemort couldn't touch that kind of magic in fifty years, which meant he probably couldn't touch it now. Didn't understand, didn't want it. Which was ironic, because it was the strongest kind. He had split his soul into seven, not knowing how broken that made him, where he thought it would make him stronger. Harry had something Riddle didn't, and Raddy was darned if she would let it stump her now, that she was getting somewhere.

She opened her eyes and stared at the pattern on the ceiling. Intricate and complicated, like everything about her mission. She couldn't puzzle Riddle out. Dumbledore had told her that he was very distant, cold, and treated his supposed 'friends' like minions. He treated them like his subordinates even at a young age. He fooled all the teachers into thinking he was a perfect, model student, and often held him up as an example of a good student of his peers. All the girls wanted to date him—from what she had gathered in a brief stroll around the halls the previous morning—and all the boys either wanted to be him, or feared him. He was formidable force. There was no friendship without reason. Everyone and everything was a means to an end. There was no relationship he had…just because. Just for the sake of being a human being. Of giving in to basic, human instinct. To form friendships, trust other people, and be trusted.

Maybe that was what she had to do for now before…ending him. Maybe right now the best she could do, to figure him out and take him down, was to be his friend. She shuddered at the thought. But it made perfect sense really…she was a ward of the school, there was no real ulterior motive to forming a friendship with him, other than to prevent loneliness from taking over. And that was the difference between Harry and Tom Riddle. Where Riddle had used his beginnings to put up walls and keep people out, using them as pawns in his game, Harry had used his beginnings to crave friendship, companionship and love. He had stayed open and trusted without fear, loved his friends fiercely and with unfailing loyalty. Perhaps that was what she had to do if she was to get Riddle to show a weakness. She had to show him how to be a friend, how to be open and then she would be able to use whatever she found out to her advantage, to kill him.

Raddy sighed. Despite having reached a consensus with herself, she still felt as lost as when she arrived. She finished with her bath and drained the water, towelled off and headed to bed. She pulled and nightgown from her armoire and stepped into it. She huffed as the hem fell around her ankles, and picked her wand up and quickly adjusted the length until it was comfortably just below her knees. At least now she wasn't scared of tripping herself up on her own nightgown. She pulled back the covers of the duvet and slunk in between the sheets, sighing into the mattress and falling easily into sleep.

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading to the end! It is very appreciated. Please, again, if you find inconsistencies, grammar/spelling mistakes, a confusing moment, (a good moment even), please let me know :)**

 **Have a good rest of your day, enjoy yourselves, and don't forget to rest in between working/studying hard. God bless and see you at the next chapter.**


	3. Chapter Three: The Nature of Young Men

**Hello everyone, sorry it's been a while since my last update, but this one was a little tricky to get around. A lot of chopping and changing until this came out, and hopefully it worked out well in transitioning Raddy into the classroom. We'll have to wait and see on that one though :) Enjoy, and before I forgot as I think I have before, I do not own Harry Potter, simply Raddy and the journey she is taking.**

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Chapter Three: The Nature of Young Men

Raddy blinked and stared at the canopy of her bed. Somehow she just couldn't muster the effort to get up just yet. There was sun streaming in through the window, suggesting that it was late into the day. She estimated somewhere around lunchtime, as her stomach grumbled at her, alerting her of its displeasure at being ignored for so long. She sighed and sat up, leaning against the headboard and looking around her room owlishly. Her head was still fuzzy from staying up so late and mentally exhausting it last night, and it was taking longer to register just what was going on. She rubbed at her eyes and ran her hands through her hair in an attempt to massage her scalp and get her brain cells working, but winced instead as her fingers snagged on knotted curls instead.

Raddy threw back the covers and lethargically dragged her legs over the side and into the rug. She sat there a moment, looking down at her hands and at the faint ink marks on her right one. She flexed it a few times to lose the last of the cramp out of it, and stood slowly. She turned and made her bed out of autonomous habit from years of her mother's nagging, and turned to her clothes. She took a moment before picking a pastel green off a coat hanger and dressed at an unhurried pace. She ran her brush through her hair, thankful that hers was a silky texture, and not a frizzy one, unlike Hermione Granger whose hair was akin to that of a bird's nest. At least Raddy's was tamed, if annoying to deal with. She swept the top half back and transfigured a quill into a white ribbon, and fastened in around her curls in a half ponytail, to keep her hair off her face and her neck warm.

She spent a few minutes tidying away her book purchases from the previous day, and perused them for a while before pulling one off the shelf. 'Pride and Prejudice', by Jane Austen. It was interesting that a magical bookstore would have a non-magical section, but she supposed it was due to the fact that muggle books were something of a curious novelty. Wizards marvelled at how muggles worked and got on without magic. This was one insight, she supposed. Magic was a convenience, and unfortunately it had left the wizarding world lazy, where muggles were innovative and inventive. They created things, wondrous things, and the wizards marvelled at how they could have come up with their little machines without magic. In Raddy's opinion, being raised in a muggle household despite her father being a wizard, the majority of the wizarding world was in fact the primitive ones. They let their magic do their work for them, and while they scoffed at muggles and how funny they were with their little 'toys' and lacked the proper equipment to more forward, the wizarding world had been stuck in stasis for centuries while the muggle world slowly progressed. She was sure wizards hadn't really progressed for the last several hundred years.

She entered the common room and moved over to the sofa, and curled up in a corner to read her book. It wasn't exactly her cup of tea—never mind the pun—but she supposed the next fifty years' worth of books hadn't been written yet. She smiled at that and dove into Austen's world.

It was amazing how even though this was written even more in the past than when she was now, so much of what Austen wrote was still true even now. Raddy mused the things such as class structure and reputation; they were so important, especially in the wizarding world. If you didn't have the right social standing, you weren't going anywhere. Blood status was the large definer in where a wizard stood in society. Purebloods where obviously in high social standing—especially those with a long, pure, recorded history. Where it broke—when pure wizards married muggles and created a fracture in the pureblood line—was where class and social standing deteriorated into lower classes. The Malfoy's for example, where among the top of the high class. They played by the strict rules and married 'correctly', according to their lineage and blood standing. Of course, with the cross breeding and interbreeding, pureblood wizards had narrowed their genepool quite efficiently. Pureblooded wizards _were_ powerful, but with the dangerous game of selective marriage they were creating more and more squibs, and less and less powerful offspring. It was becoming the case of the crossbreeds and 'mongrels' were stronger by outcrossing genes and bringing in new genes to increase the gene pool and therefore create stronger offspring.

It was how wolves worked; it was how all domesticated animals worked. The crossbreeds nowadays were always stronger than purebreds, especially in dogs. Raddy sighed and touched at the nape of her neck, where her first scar lay; three slim lines the colour of pearly white. Her evidence of her condition. All her other scars were self-inflicted; she refused to hurt an innocent with the monster she knew she was inside. The monster Samantha had sensed yesterday in her shop. The monster her parents had had to lock away every month before the Wolfsbane potion had been released. The monster she was to become this month, and for every month of her stay here.

She dropped her hand back to her lap and continued with her book, reading but not really seeing the pages. She struggled against the sudden onslaught of emotion that wavered through her. Straining with effort to not let her memories overrule her, she struggled to breathe and her chest began to hurt. She clenched the book in her hands and gritted her teeth. She was stronger than this. She was _stronger_ than her monster. She would defeat Tom Riddle, and she would return to her own time. And all the while she _would not_ let her monster control her.

* * *

It was a while later that Riddle returned to the dorm, and Raddy hadn't moved from her spot on the sofa. Her legs had gone dead and her back was a little stiff, but otherwise she was comfier than she had been sitting at her desk last night. She stiffened further when he sat down in the armchair next to the sofa and started silently pulling out his books. She sensed something was amiss as the hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and when she peeked at him out of the corner of her eye she saw why. Despite how schooled he made himself appear, no matter how detached and calculatingly distant, she could see right through him. Because she saw more than a normal human eye. It was ironic that in her other form her eyesight was quite poor in comparison and dim, but it was balanced by amazing hearing and sense of smell. She had grown accustomed to retaining her faculties during her transformations, and it was chilling to know that she wouldn't have control over it this time around.

After studying Riddle for a few moments, she looked at him more squarely. "Hello." Her tone was soft spoken and gentle, as if talking to a startled, panicked animal.

He glanced up, anger blazing in his eyes, betraying his carefully blank features. "I would appreciate it if you wouldn't speak. I have work to do, and the last time I checked, I was Head Boy, and you're only a ward of the school."

She arched a brow. Despite her anxiety about him and her worry and fear, she knew an insult when she saw one. And it made her bristle enough to bite back. "What are you implying?"

"You shouldn't be here. This _isn't_ your dorm, this is _my_ dorm. Why _I_ was left with you is beyond me, and I don't want you here." He gritted his teeth and continued with unpacking his bag.

"So you're going to prove it by sitting in the common room with me?" Raddy couldn't wrap her head around this boy. He was so confusing, if dangerous.

"Let's be clear about something." He looked up her and met her gaze, lowering his voice to a dangerously threatening level. And despite herself and her sudden urge to run, she couldn't move a muscle. He wouldn't let her. Without even _speaking_ in that moment he wouldn't let her move, or speak, or think. "I don't want you here. This is _my_ dorm, I didn't invite you in. You were dumped here by that buffoon Dippet. Don't expect any kind of sympathy, do you understand?"

"I wasn't expecting anything from anybody, least of all you." She replied coolly. She trembled quietly on the inside.

"Good, because it won't be given." He turned to fully face her, squarely, and she suddenly felt as though she was a five year old being reprimanded for doing something she shouldn't. "There are a few rules that you _will_ follow while you're here, seeing as I can't get rid of you."

"Which are?" she snapped quickly, lest he hear a waver in her voice.

"Don't speak when we're both in here. Don't bring anyone in here, at all, and if you want to, the answer is no. And don't leave your things lying around. This isn't your bedroom, and anything you leave lying around _will_ be confiscated." It astonished her how _this_ could deceive the whole staff faculty into believing he was innocent and perfect. "Are we clear?"

"Crystal." She could barely get a whisper out, she felt she constricted under his glinting death stare. She almost let out a sigh of relief when he looked away and went back to what she assumed was his homework. She shuddered a little and released the tension that had built up over that conversation and almost collapsed against the sofa. As soon as she could, she rose from her seat and fled to her room.

She shut the door behind her and let out a shuddering breath. This was going to be harder than she initially thought. She hadn't calculated the fact that he hated her very being just from being in the same dorm into her plan. She hadn't calculated the fact that his façade didn't matter around her in her plan. He was right, she _wasn't_ a student. She could do what she liked, and she didn't matter in the school's hierarchical system. She was outside of it, and that made her both a threat and a benign factor. She didn't matter, she didn't get him anywhere by being civil with her, because she wasn't a student. She wasn't a means to any end, which was her disadvantage. And her advantage; she just had to get around his jarring personality.

Which was going to be a huge challenge, if that was how he responded to a simple hello. She set her book down on her side table and sat down at her desk, and stared out the window for a moment. It was evening, with the sun setting. It was probably around dinnertime but for the life of her she couldn't muster the courage to go out into the common room to get to the portrait hole, and her stomach couldn't muster the gall to be hungry enough for it.

* * *

When Raddy heard Riddle pack up and leave was when she finally relaxed. She sighed the tension away and lit a candle to illuminate her room. She had sat in silent darkness in tense anticipation. She hadn't been quite capable of much else; Riddle's aggressive behaviour had triggered something inside her. Something primal. Something dark and subconscious, something she had never felt before in her life. Fight or flight; true, natural instinct to either run away from the danger he posed, or to leap across the space and eliminate the threat altogether. She had felt threatened before, where she had become hyper aware of her surroundings and reacted instinctively, but she had never been so reduced to such a base consciousness before. It was all she could do to convince the monster to flee, to leave this battle for another time. She had appeased it somewhat, but it growled from the back of her mind and paced restlessly.

She ran a hand through her curls several times and glanced over at the leather case on the bookshelf. She pulled it down and opened it, sitting down and preparing a blank sheet. She dipped her quill delicately into the inkpot, adamant to display as much finesse poise as possible, even if it was only to herself. She would not give in to the monster. She was not a monster, and she would not act like one. Her hand trembled as she struggled to form the letters without mucking up the ink lines, and after a moment she lifted the piece of parchment and blew on the ink gently, to dry it so it wouldn't run. She tacked it to the window just in front of her, and stared at the sentence she had written in large, shaking letters. _I am NOT a monster._ She just prayed that it was true.

She clenched her hands into fists and clenched her jaw shut, refusing to allow the swell of emotion in her chest to spill over her cheeks. She would not let the raw moon control her. She was stronger than what it made her. She would get through it, and she would come out victorious. Her mother had always told her to _'go in with the victory in hand, as God has already won your battles for you'_. She hoped her mother was right. She had never quite believed in God the same way she did, because quite honestly why would a God condemn someone like her to a life of housing a monster? Why would he love a monster? Raddy didn't believe that it was possible. But she was at a loss of what to do, and when the monster sleeping in the room next to her was more human than the monster within her, how could she believe that He could love her any less than him? His children were human. If He loved everyone equally the way her mother had taught her, then she had a shot. A slim one, but a chance nonetheless. Because if the only person who could show the monster sleeping next to her was God, then she was sorted.

She quivered though. Despite all of it, despite what her mother had taught her, despite what she knew… she feared her worst nightmare. She feared it with every fibre of her being; she feared what she would become in the coming months, unbridled and untamed. She feared even more for the students in the school and the teachers who didn't deserve to be housing a monster as a refugee of war. She sniffed; how could a monster need protecting? No one would be safe as long as she was here without a way to keep her faculties. She had considered making the potion herself, but the only problem was she couldn't remember the brewing process. She could remember the ingredient list as clear as day, but she was fuzzy on the details. She was reluctant to brew a cure for her mental faculties with the potentiality of poisoning herself.

She glanced at the stack of dusty curriculum books. She reached over and wiggled the potions book out of the stack and opened it to the contents page. She ran her finger down the list of potions, and let it fall from the bottom of the page. There was no Wolfsbane potion here. She knew there wouldn't be, because it wouldn't be on the curriculum let alone in any book as it wasn't invented yet, but she had to try. Pointlessly mind you, but she had to try. She chewed on the bottom of her lip, staring into space unfocused for a period of time. There was only one way of actually being able to solve her problem, and that was by attending classes. That was the only way she was going to get near a potions lab without raising suspicion from Riddle and giving herself away. She wasn't a student, so she could play around in her spare time unrestricted. She didn't have the same rules as the students, except for curfew, but that was understandable. She could convince Slughorn to give her access to the labs to 'practice' her brewing ability. She did need to, but that was beside the point. She wasn't a fantastic potioneer like Granger, but she could problem solve and work around it. She wasn't going to be as forward moving as she knew Granger to be, but she could be thorough and academic about it.

She picked up the timetable she had left to the side, and looked it over. She had been given a fairly basic timetable. She knew Dippet had briefed the teachers on the situation and let them know that she was allowed to attend classes and treat her like any other student. Dumbledore had told her about it on their shopping excursion. She also tacked it to the window next to her message for herself, and sighed at just how painful this was going to be. She had been given basic, mandatory classes so her schedule was quite open, which left a lot of time to track Riddle around his classes and the school to work a way around his scathing personality.

She sighed and rose from her chair, and went over to the armoire. She picked a dress off the hangers without paying attention, and changed out of her nightgown. She ran a brush through her hair without doing anything to pull it away from her face, and decided against shoes as she tucked her wand away in a pocket and the time turner against her breast out of sight. She shut and locked her door behind her. She didn't bother to stick around to talk to the portrait as she had been the last few times and started walking down the corridors. She would down the great staircase and towards the second floor. From here she could wind down to a classroom corridor and through a courtyard, around the side of the castle through a wide bridge-path and out into the grounds. She strolled leisurely, not worried about time. She had all the time in the world this afternoon before tomorrow, when she would put into action the only plan she had come up with to save the wizarding world. And the odds were bizarre and not surprisingly impossible; she had more chance of freezing to death in hell than befriending Tom Riddle, but she would try. If only for the chance that her friends and family might be alive when she returned to the future.

She headed down the grass verge out towards the Black Lake, skirting around boulders and inspecting daisy patches on her way down for a good spot to sit and make a chain. She eventually found one not too far from the Lake on the edge of the grass before the stony shoreline. She picked the daisies one by one, threading them carefully into a chain and watching the Lake lap docilely back and forth across the stones. She wondered what monsters lay in wait beneath the surface, patiently waiting for an unsuspecting student to swim too far out into the deep. It had happened before, but luckily the student had been rescued before any serious repercussions.

Raddy hummed to herself as she threaded daisies and watched the black water dance languidly with the shore. She almost missed the next few moments, and would have been caught completely by surprise if a soft crunch of leaves behind her alerted her to the fact she was no longer alone. She remained where she was, and completed her chain where it was up to. It was not long enough for a necklace, so on an impulse she placed in on her hand as a mock flower crown. She adjusted her skirts and eased her legs into a more comfortable position than sitting on them, and smoothed the material as a shadow suddenly loomed over her. She glanced up slowly, arching a brow at the person looming over her. She wasn't expecting the startlingly familiar face of Harry Potter standing over her.

"If that was supposed to startle me you did a poor job." It was strange. He was staring at her with concern in his eyes. It was like stepping into a dream; he looked exactly like her friend, except for the fact he wasn't wearing glasses, didn't have a scar, and was tall.

He smiled and proceeded to sit down next to her. Odd. "My name's John Potter. And before you make a comment about it, my parents are simple and old fashioned."

She relaxed and turned her body a little to face him. This was a strange experience, but at the same time rather pleasant. She hadn't really spoken to anyone so far in the few days she had been here. "Old fashioned is endearing. My name's Pamela, but please call me Raddy."

"Raddy? That's an interesting name." he paused for a moment then looked back at her, the smile dropping from his face a little. "They say you were in the war."

Her good humour drained away from her face. She looked away from him. "I was." She looked back at him. "But I'm safe now."

He nodded. "Hogwarts is the safest place to be." He paused for a moment, and grinned again. "Do you like pumpkin juice?"

She arched a brow at him. What a strange boy he was. "That's a strange question. And what happens if I answer?"

He chuckled. "Do you like chicken?"

She huffed and looked at him perplexed. "On the occasion." The less meat she ate, the easier it was to stomach food in general.

"Ah, I see." He crinkled his brow as if thinking diligently on a matter, before looking over at her steadily. "That makes asking you to dinner a little difficult."

It was such an odd thing to say that she burst out laughing. She covered her mouth with her hand to will the chuckles away, but she couldn't stop her shoulders from shaking. "You were thinking of asking me to dinner? Where?"

He made a show of seeming offended, holding a hand over his heart and certainly using his boyish good looks to his advantage. "My lady, I dear say that your laughter wounds me so." She giggled harder as he put on a droll, pompous tone to his voice. "I must say, my pride is severely affected." He stood up and flicked his scarf over his shoulder mockingly and put his hands on his hips.

Before he could open his mouth and continue, Raddy rose as well and held out a hand to him, palm forward. "Wait, wait!" she grinned and felt dizzy; he certainly was a charming young man, and so much like her friend. Though he was certainly more carefree than Harry was. "My good sir my laughter was not a mockery at you, I was simply finding the notion that one could consider _me_ a candidate for a dinner date mildly funny."

He cocked his head, "And why on earth is that?"

Her smile dropped again, and she held her arms around her middle. "It's a little cold." She avoided his question.

Dropping the mockery, John quickly took his uniform cloak off and wrapped it around her shoulders, in a very gentlemanly way. She glanced up at him in silent thanks. He smiled softly at her. "Will you at least let me take you to the Great Hall dinner tonight?"

"Okay." She wrapped his cloak further around her shoulders and walked with him back up to the castle. John was a very interesting young man, and she was sure that he would become a dear friend in the coming months. But was every weary of the time looming over her, and the fact that she would be leaving this entire world behind to return home at the end of the school year. It was the reason she could not get close. She glanced up at his face as he chatted away to her, regaling her with tales of his friends, Gryffindor, Hogwarts and many of the teachers and students, and felt a sadness over her heart. She was talking to Harry's grandfather; a bright, happy young man who knew nothing of the real world or the dark dangers that lurked in the shadows. And here she was, his grandson's friend years in the future, who was burdened, weary young woman, who knew all too well the trials of the real world and that she housed a dark danger that lurked in the back of the shadows, waiting and watching.

* * *

 **So Raddy has had her first proper interaction with Riddle, formed a sort of plan, and met John Potter. All in all not a bad way to spend her day :)**

 **Thank you all for reading, and please let me know of any mistakes, whether they be grammar, spelling, inconsistencies etc. I am the only one editing this, and so sometimes the mistakes just don't jump out at me.**

 **See you at the next chapter, and have a good rest of your evening. Remember to rest in between working/studying hard; God bless :)**


	4. Chapter Four: Just a Smile

**Hello everyone, it's been a very long time since I've written anything, almost two years in fact. This was a bit nerve-wracking to put up, but I hope it does the story justice in terms of getting back into the swing of things. If it doesn't, please let me know, and if it does, please let me know. Either way helps a lot.**

 **I own nothing except Raddy and some other minor non-cannon characters that aren't part of the HP universe as written by JK Rowling.**

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Chapter Four: Just a Smile

To say that John was happy to escort her to her classes the next day was an understatement. He was positively brimming with energy and grinning from ear to ear as she stepped out of her portrait hole with a satchel slung over her shoulder and on her way to breakfast. She hadn't expected him to come and get her for breakfast though. She had agreed that he should be allowed the 'honour' as he called it, of taking her to class and escorting her around the grounds. He truly was a gentleman, and she made a note to tell Harry all about his grandfather when she returned. She was sure he would love to hear about his family.

She smiled softly at him and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear as they started down to the Great Hall in the early morning before the peak rush of students heading down as well. It was a nice quiet time that she appreciated before getting stuck into her day. She listened patiently as he began telling her all about the teachers that she would get in her subjects, and she wondered if all Potters were like this; eager to make friends and genuine connections. Harry was, though he was very reluctant due to the whole 'dark wizard trying to kill him since he was a baby' fiasco. She padded along beside John quietly, a perfect little companion. She was dressed in a simple blue dress and her blue cardigan. She had rolled the sleeves up to her elbows and had pinned part of her hair back with some bobby pins. Her satchel was something she had fashioned out of a bath towel with a simple transfiguration spell. It held all her books that she would need, a notebook and writing supplies. Her time turner was tucked underneath her dress against her chest, where it was safest. She couldn't bear to part with it or leave it somewhere it could be discovered.

They reached the Great Hall without issue, and John led her over to a young lady who had her nose stuck in a book and a piece of half eaten toast on a plate in front of her. From what Raddy could see, she had a pair of glasses neatly perch on her nose, and her sleek black hair pulled up into a prim bun. She couldn't help but smile as John sat down next to her, and Raddy took the seat opposite. The girl was absentmindedly nodding as John enthusiastically prattled to her about something or other, until he mentioned Raddy.

She startled and glanced up. Raddy chuckled. "Oh, hello." She straightened her glasses and gave John a pointed look, and he shrugged sheepishly. "You could have told me." She turned to Raddy. "I'm Minerva McGonagall. But please, call me Minne, it's an awfully ugly name my parents graciously gave me." Yes. She was prim, proper, to the point and with no bullshit.

Raddy grinned. This was a much younger version of the teacher she remembered. It was nice to know some things were the same. "Pamela West, but call me Raddy."

Minnie smiled. "Are you going to join us for class today?"

"I am. You seem rather chipper considering we have double transfiguration first."

Minnie brightened and John groaned. "No, please don't get her started. She's in love with the subject; it's godawful listening to her go on and on about it."

Minnie arched her brow at her friend. "And I suppose listening to you and Septimus go on and on about Quidditch is just as riveting?"

John held a hand to his chest. "Touche."

Raddy chuckled as she grabbed some porridge and poured a generous amount of milk and then honey over it. They looked at her questioningly. She shook her head. "You two just remind me of a couple of friends back home." After that the conversation tapered off into different directions, and a myriad of Gryffindors joined them, some of them from familiar families and some not.

The three of them, plus Septimus Weasley, finished up breakfast and jovially headed off to class. Raddy kept pace slightly behind, watching the three friends antics fondly. They were so full of wonder and innocence, it was hard not to catch on. John and Septimus jostled each other and Minnie shook her head often and reprimanded them for being boisterous. It was very familiar, and very homely. They'd made it to the transfiguration classroom by the time she realised the choking feeling around her throat had allowed a few tears to squeeze through, and she hurriedly wiped them away with the sleeve of her cardigan.

All the students were waiting patiently for Dumbledore—it was a bit difficult to imagine her greyed Headmaster as the auburn transfiguration teacher—with Riddle and his gang at the head of the line. They were sneering at the others, who were for the most part giving them a wide berth. Some of the girls were eyeing Riddle like he was a piece of meat, and she would even go so far as to say some were swooning. She shook her head in disgust.

"Yeah I hear your thoughts on that one Raddy. Don't know what on earth those girls see in that wanker." She glanced up at John, who had a puzzled and horrified look on his face. It quickly morphed in a grin and sparkling eyes. If she wasn't fifty years in the past on a suicide mission to save the world, and if it wouldn't upset the space-time continuum, she would consider John to be a very attractive young man. But unfortunately she was and it would, so she reined in the train of derailing thoughts fairly quickly.

"Those are some harsh insults." She agreed with them wholeheartedly, but that didn't mean she wanted to publicly admit that in front of the death lord and his drones.

Dumbledore arrived while they were talking and ushered everyone inside. She was the last one inside, and as she padded past him, Dumbledore gave her a wink and his eyes were twinkling. She groaned inwardly; twinkling eyes were never good. Never ever. She steeled herself from whatever onslaught he had prepared for her, and followed her friends inside. The next few moments were a blur as she was introduced and a few of the students she hadn't met waved, and sent her looks of sympathy. The onslaught she had not prepared for was the fact that she was seated next to Riddle. She slumped into her seat and imagined herself sinking into the floor.

Great for her plan. Not so great for her 'being alive' status. Dumbledore looked very pleased with himself as he began the lesson on something or other that she couldn't bring herself to focus on. Riddle was seething, positively seething. She could feel the heat radiating from him in waves through her cardigan, and with that the pure scent of frustration and rage. Outwardly, glancing over for a moment before returning to her blank notebook page, he was the epitome of unflustered. It was like she didn't even exist. Unfortunately, her nose knew better. She very much did exist, and she was very much sure that there was a chance that she wouldn't be by the end of the day. And she had to sit next to him for two whole periods.

She struggled to pay attention, but she did managed to scribble down at least some of the things Dumbledore went over in the two hour period she was sat next to him. She peered over a few minutes before the lesson was over and her brows rose at just how many pages were filled with notes. He certainly did take his education as seriously as she was told he did.

She was lost in her thoughts when a sudden burst in activity and noise brought her back to the present. She glanced sideways and Riddle was already gone. She huffed and stood, gathering her things and putting them away in her bag. She slung her bag over her shoulder as John and the others caught her up on their way out the classroom. John had an impressed smirk on his face, and the others held similar expressions.

"Well Raddy, you survived our first class, and having to sit next to that prat no less." He mocked applauded her as they stepped down the corridor towards the grounds for Herbology. "We're impressed. Not a lot of people survive sitting next to Riddle."

She arched a brow. "Oh?"

Septimus shrugged. "They either can't handle his dashing figure, or he glares them to death. But he seemed to be ignoring you like some sort of plague."

She sighed. "Lucky me."

John nodded and patted her on the top of the head. "Yup. Good luck for transfiguration for the rest of the year. We only have it oh…three times a week?"

She groaned. "Don't remind me."

Septimus chuckled. "At least you don't have to attend. These are N.E.W.T classes, you didn't sit you O.W.L.S, so you're not obligated to come."

 _Well, actually…_ She pondered. She had sat six O.W.L.S it total, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Potions and Ancient Runes. She may have not gotten Outstanding on all of them, but she had done very well. Well enough to get into the N.E.W.T classes for the subjects. "It would be a nice way to spend my time for the year at least."

Septimus scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You girls are obsessed with your education. Looks like you have a study partner Minnie."

Minnie smiled. "It would be a welcome change from the buffoons I normally have to study with." The two girls giggled as the boys protested quite loudly, earning some bemused looks from other students they passed on their way through the castle.

* * *

Raddy sank onto the sofa in front of the fireplace in the Head dorm. It was after dinner, and she was exhausted. There was just something so much more draining about going to class and having to deal with other students than hunting for Horcruxes. She took her wand out of her pocket and flicked it at the curtains of the window seat, and the curtains drew shut sharply. She turned towards the fire, and swished the wand at the black grate. A spark shot out and a flame burst to life. A few moments later it was roaring and the chilly common room felt the tickle of the fire's warmth. She breathed it in and drew her legs up to her and hugged them. She felt a burn behind her eyes, and took a steadying breath to calm herself.

Today had been hard. Damn hard. Going to class in a non-destroyed Hogwarts without her friends. Sitting in a classroom being taught by her not-dead future Headmaster. Having to sit next to the one person who had single-handedly caused her world to fall apart piece by piece. It was just too damn hard. _Why me?_ Had been a running mantra in her mind all day. She couldn't fathom how she was meant to do this, to destroy Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was untouchable; she had only had to sit next to him in Transfiguration, but he had glared daggers at her in Herbology and Charms the whole time. There were glare holes in the back of her head she was certain of it.

She ran a hand through her curls and stared into the flames. They danced joyfully and she wished she could be as simple as a burning flame. Nothing could touch her, save for the rain. She would burn everything in her path, including Riddle. If only it were that easy. The portrait creaked open and in walked her thunder cloud. She pinched the bridge of her nose and readied herself for the onslaught.

She didn't have to wait long; he sat down in his armchair and pulled out his books and notes. Right, homework. Which she didn't have to do. But it would be a welcome distraction. She began the same process when the heat wave of anger wafted over to her. She glanced up. There it was, the onslaught. He was composed perfectly, reviewing his notes and textbooks, and scribbling new notes impeccably into a new notebook. Peering over she arched a brow as she realised he was re-writing his notes out.

"Why are you re-writing your notes? They're already neat enough and thorough." His eyes shot up to her and there were those daggers again, pinning her into place. And here she was thinking she had prepared in advance for this. She sighed, despite her heart hammering a little harder in her chest and the nape of neck beginning to tingle in anticipation. "Right, no speaking."

She swallowed and went back to staring blankly at her own notebook and textbooks, quill perched in her fingertips. She sighed again. There was no time like the present. "So what's your problem?"

There was a beat, a brief moment where he was so still she was sure he could pass for a well-sculpted statue of a greek god. Or something like that. And then he opened his mouth and she forgot he could even match that description with his lips shut. "My problem?" the words were spat in her direction, a subtle accusation.

"With me. What is you goddamn problem, with me." Raddy bit the words out painstakingly as he deep iris' threatened to swallow her soul and spit out the husk left behind.

He paused a moment, appearing as if to consider the question. His brow was furrowed slightly, as though he were confused. "Well for one thing you're here. In my castle."

She arched a brow, being pinned to the sofa blessedly forgotten in the moment it took for her to storm to her feet, incredulous and fuming. Her books scattered over the rug, her quill pinched between her fingers, her curls bouncing with the swiftness of her movements. " _Your_ castle? And who decided it was your damn right to claim it?" She inched closer to him threateningly, snarling at him. "You don't own this castle. You don't own a thing." She hissed at him, leering down, practically smouldering a hole into the rug where she stood.

He paled and his lips drew a tight line. Well, a nerve appeared to be pinched. He rose to his feet agonisingly slowly for how fast her heart rattled against her rib cage, his height bearing down on her intimidatingly. "And what do you know of owning things?" his voice was quiet and soft. A storm rolled around his eyes, his hands balled into fists.

She bared her teeth at him like a feral wolf, hackles raised and stance defensive. Her voice was equally low and quiet when she spoke, but she spat each one out as though they were hot coals protesting in a fire pit. "I had a life before all of this. Before it was ruined. Before _I_ was ruined. And now I don't anymore. I'm a damn slave to this war and it doesn't end. It keeps going, no matter how much they tell you it is over. You can't be hurt anymore. _But it doesn't fucking end._ It keeps going, and there's still _work_ to do and I just can't do it. Except I _have to_ , because there's no choice. I'm all that's left to take the power-deranged bastard who started all this mess, and I need to see it through and destroy him before he can touch and ruin another innocent life."

Through her rant Raddy had inched closer until she was practically standing toe to toe with him. The beautifully damaged boy in front of her who would one day destroy everything she held dear. "So what do I know about owning things?" she laughed bitterly. "I used to own my own life, my own future, my own _body_ for god's sake. And now even all of those are taken from me." She paused a moment to let it sink in to his hugely miniscule brain before taking a breath to calm herself, pick up her things and head to her room without another word.

* * *

Not speaking to him transferred into class as well, where they were sat next to each other in Potions now as well as transfiguration. And Tom just couldn't puzzle her out. In transfiguration she ignored him, and in Potions she did what he instructed, nothing more and nothing less. In the few weeks that followed he had taken to keeping an eye on her. She was jovial and seemingly happy with her new friends, though there was something tainted with sadness under the surface.

The other odd thing was that her words wouldn't stop ringing around in his head. He had been livid with her outburst, about her speaking. And then she had turned into a feral animal and put him in his place, where before she had treated him with the utmost caution even before their first words. Upon their meeting when he had found her, he could remember the look in her eyes. _A deer struck paralysed by fear_. She hadn't sat in the common room on her sofa since their incident, at least not when he was there. He had taken to spending his study time in the library, both to avoid and ponder over the puzzle that she was.

 _I used to own my own body and even that's been taken from me_. Was one of the things she had said, and it wouldn't leave his thoughts. Through her feral attack, at that moment she had seemed helpless. A puppet on a few strings with only enough give to breath. He wondered what tight leash she was on. _There's still work to do and I can't do it, except I have to_. What did she have to do? What work? Did it have something to do with why she was here? He didn't know. She was incredibly frustrating with how stuck in his mind she was. It wasn't affecting his perfect school work yet, but he'd be damned if it got to that point.

He had grand plans. Plans that didn't involve thinking about the ward of the school on his quest to make himself truly immortal. He had already separated his soul once into a Horcrux, a diary he had had last year. He was on his way to making these long thought out plans come into being, and that thought made him smile.

He arrived back late enough to the portrait that he figured West had gone to bed, but when he stepped in he was unpleasantly surprised to see her still up and curled up on the sofa in front of the fire with a book in hand. She didn't look up as he entered and he had come to expect almost no response from her due to his presence. No tensing, no glancing over and then looking away hurriedly, no nervous twitching. On closer inspection as he strode past she was reading something he had read a million times at least over the course of his childhood at the orphanage. He shook his head inwardly and carried on, though the itch to speak up about it, with some snide remark towards her taste in literature on the tip of his tongue. He had his hand on his door handle when he turned around.

"I've read that enough times to know it's all a farce. You should improve your tastes in literature, you wouldn't want someone to catch you reading a muggle book."

At last, a glance up in his direction. "And if I don't care about what people might think of my literary tastes?"

He quirked a brow. "What a person reads can say a lot about them."

"Then that doesn't say much for the wizarding world's population then, does it? I don't think I've read one book from this world that intrigued me at all." She unfurled herself from the sofa and stood, bookmarking her page and stretching her stiff limbs. She looked at him coolly as she did so, and it almost unnerved him the look in her eyes. As if he was the hunted prey and she was leisurely deciding what to do with him.

"And I don't think I've met one person from this world who has intrigued me at all, until I met you." The words were out before he could stop them, and they both paused a moment to adjust to the subtle shift in their situation.

She made her way to her own door and placed her hand on the knob and turned. The moment drew out as she took one last glance at him for the night to give him a small smile before entering and shutting the door, leaving him alone in the common room. His brow furrowed as he too went into his room and went about going to bed. _A smile?_ After weeks of nothing? Interesting indeed.

As Tom laid down in bed and drew the blankets up, he had no idea that that smile was the catalyst for his downfall. His mind would get stuck on it, and everything to come. He would get stuck on Pamela West. And it would inevitably destroy him and everything he stood for.

* * *

 **So that's this chapter wrapped up. It went in an unexpected direction for me, and I hope it didn't completely mess up what has been done so far.**

 **Thank you for reading thus far, and please let me know your thoughts on this. It helps improve on what's here and therefore what is to come.**


	5. Chapter Five: Moonlit Encounters

**Okay guys, it's been ages and to be honest when I started writing this particular chapter ages ago, before finishing it in the last few days I had a different path in mind than the one it took. But here we are, and I'm hoping it's half way decent because life been making my brain very 'blah' lately, so this sorry little thing is a sort of 'get-the-creative-juices-flowing-again' kind of deal.**

* * *

Chapter Five: Moonlit Encounters

Raddy sat on the cold ground, naked but for her cardigan huddled over her shoulders. She glanced up at the sky, and silently noted how much time she had left of the night on two legs. Dumbledore had escorted her to the edge of the Forbidden Forest earlier in the evening, and the full moon was almost at its peak. She shivered. Her teeth clacked together, chattering. She could feel the goosebumps rising on her arms and her hairs sticking up on end. It had been a few days since her and Riddle's latest common room encounter, and she still couldn't get over how stupid she had been. _Literary tastes?_ And then the smile she had given him as an afterthought. What had she been thinking at that point to do something like that? Obviously she hadn't been. She was just waiting for their next encounter and what would happen. She had a bubble deep in her gut that was ready to burst with anticipation; she just had a feeling that something had happened in that moment. The smile wasn't over, not by a long shot. Not after scenting him, which she had been able to do across the room due to being so close. _Heartbeat spike accompanied with clammy palms_. Even if he didn't notice or recognise his reaction, she had noticed.

A stone bit into her backside and she made a face as she shifted uncomfortably on her tail bone. There was a definite chill in the air tonight. The Forest was silent, as it always was, waiting for her moment. Anticipating. It was as if every creature was holding its breath, everything was paused until the moon made its way to its due point. Date night, she liked to call it. It made things easier to deal with than calling it something foreboding and off-putting. Like 'well-shit-here-we-go-again-turning-into-a-bloody-thirsty-creature-wanting-to-rip-everything-to-pieces' night.

A tingle rushed down her spine, and she glanced up already knowing her answer. The moon had reached its peak, and was shining down on her through the thick canopy. She shuddered, dreading what was to come, and carefully removed her cardigan and folded it. She hid it underneath the brush next to her, and ran her fingers over the foliage; it was strange but it was very effective for finding her way back to herself. As a wolf she could track her human scent back to her clothes. It made things a lot easier in the morning when she changed back. She rose to her feet and paced a few steps away from the underbrush next to the tree she had been sitting beneath, and crouched down as low as she could without sitting back down. And she waited.

The tingling spread through her arms and legs, and flowed up to her ears and the nape of her neck. She inhaled deeply, holding for a moment before exhaling. The tingling gave way to pain a moment later, white hot burning chewing through her veins. She screamed. _CRACK_. She whimpered as her back snapped in two, as her skin stretched to the maximum as several new vertebrae poked through. She clawed at the dirt, nails digging into stones and tree roots, dragging herself in a futile effort to escape the agony. Salt stung her eyes as her vision went blurry, stained the ground next to the blood drops from her torn skin. Her lungs constricted as she tried to breathe, gulping in nothing as her organs constricted and tightened around her being. Her heart beat fast in her chest, increasing in pace as sinew and tendons and ligaments rearranged themselves.

Desperately trying to get her legs under her as her femurs dislocated themselves along with her knees and ankles, Shifting and elongating, making way for the extra joints. She sobbed breathlessly into the dust as she felt her shoulders snap, and her shoulderblades shift; she watched through tears as claws pushed her nails from their beds, and as every single bone in both of her hands broke themselves in order to rearrange into their new form. Her nose and chin gave way to a muzzle, turning her sobs into canin whimpers. Her ears grew, and she could hear the subtle changes in the octaves and tenors available to her. She her transformation finished, she desperately focused on the distant sound of a butterflies wingbeats and yowled into the night sky as her tail and fur coat erupted from her inner self, leaving her complete and limp on the floor.

She huffed in breaths, heartbeats finally coming down to the point where she could say she could keep track of counting them. The world grew dull around her, deep greens drained to grey, and she could smell the deep brown of the earth beneath her. Her iris' flickered between her natural green to amber, and she lifted her head weakly to scent the air. It was clean and crisp, fresh for an adventure. She ambled to her feet awkwardly and sat down on her haunches. The world was blurrier than usual, and her complete form ached more than it should. She blinked. Raddy looked down at her paws in the dirt, and pushed one into the softness and spread her toes as much as possible. She felt the dirt filter through her fur and lifted her paw away. She frowned inwardly, and glanced back at her tail. She thumped it against the ground once. Twice. She swished it from side to side. She heaved herself to her feet and tentatively took a few steps. She felt a building in her chest, a pressure, a swelling she couldn't quite identify. She glanced to the sky and let out a happy series of yips. She glanced around and lifted her nose to the air, sniffing a few times. She cocked her ears and swiveled until she could launch herself in the direction of running water. Her muscles sang as she thundered through the woods, ears to the sky and her tail a rudder to guide her.

It wasn't long until she came to a stream she had smelt and heard, and dipped her head to drink. There was nothing else there, and nothing else would be this close to the edge of the forest. She lapped greedily at the surface, almost moaning as the cool water hit her throat. Changing took a huge toll on her body. Once she was finished she looked down at her reflection, fuzzy though it was. She blinked a few times and squinted to get it into focus. Looking back up at her was a pure black wolf with thick, coarse fur and amber eyes. A sharp pain at her temples caused her to flinch away, and pivot to see where the pain had come from. Her chest heaving in anticipation, though there was no danger around her, save the danger she presented to the rest of the world. Sharpness thudded at her temple again, and she shook her head rapidly and whined. She looked back down at her reflection, puzzled. She was in her wolf body, with full faculties and cognition. But her head was on fire. Her temple fired again and a dull ache began at the base of her skull.

She whimpered again and attempted to shake it away, to no avail. The ache remained, and she huffed and looked back down at her reflection. This was exciting, but the headache had dampened her fun for the moment. She wasn't sure if this sudden miracle had anything to do with being in the past, but she would take it as long as it was here to stay.

Raddy set off into the forest, though not straying too far in. It would make for a long trek back to her clothes otherwise. Her ears swiveled in place constantly, listening to the old trees conversing with each other on the breeze. The underbrush creatures were abuzz, rustling leaves and crunching sticks and stones as they went about their night. She breathed in their commotion, the buzzing dragonflies and the twinkling fireflies. Squirrels twittered about looking for nuts and bats roosted in the trees, owls hooted and on the lookout for prey with their keep eyes. She could hear the thundering hooves of centaurs in the far distance, and the whisper of spirits on the wind. This was the one night she was numbered amongst the forest creatures, where she didn't have to be wary of them. They welcomed her and she welcomed them. Most feeble creatures scattered in her wake, and she chuffed at them in apology for frightening them with her massive frame.

Her pleasant walk was drawn to an abrupt end when in a routine swivel of her ears she caught the murmur of human voices. She stopped dead in her tracks, and sniffed at the air, alert and cautious. There was a group of them not far from here, near the edge of the forest. She winced as her head twinged, but set off in their direction. Was there a meeting tonight? She couldn't think it would be anything else other than a Death Eater meeting. No one else would be brave enough to venture out onto the grounds on this night. She wasn't the only one of her kind that hunted these woods, she knew. Other foul creatures also lurked on this powerful night of the moon, some far more sinister than her and far more likely to kill than to converse. Not that she could converse in this state even if she wanted to.

She padded closer to the voices, hoping that nothing else was within earshot besides herself. She lowered herself onto her belly and crept forward towards the clearing the voices were coming from. She could make out dull silhouettes beyond the bushes she was crouched behind, a group of five or six surround Riddle. She scented the air again, identifying them. Malfoy was amongst them, as was Crabbe, Goyle and a few others of Riddle's first followers. She settled in to watch them talk, keeping a watchful ear open while they blissfully carried on with their affairs.

It was funny, in this form there wasn't really any room on her emotional scale for fear, despite keeping her senses. She was just too big to be worried about much. She rested her head on her paws calmly, ever watching the boys in the clearing arguing.

They had their hoods up and their cloaks covered much of their bodies, so she couldn't see much of their stances. Though Riddle was pacing, the only one with his hood currently down. He had is wand out threateningly, pointing at each one of the other boys.

Riddle glared at the others, aggravated. "There is much work to be done this year if we are ever to be ready." She perked up. _Ready for what?_ She cocked her head curiously. "There have been several nuisances thus far, Dumbledore and the girl for one." He paced around in a circle.

Abraxas glanced at the others before clearing his throat. "What are we to do about them?"

"Nothing yet, it's too early in the year to know what they will do. Dumbledore won't act without reason, and so far the girl has more bark than bite."

She huffed. _If only you could know how wrong you are Riddle._ She blinked. Wait. She blinked again. What on this good green earth was she doing just sitting here? Why was she watching them? There was _no_ way any of them could touch her right now. Not even Riddle and his fancy wandwork; it was the perfect opportunity. She raised herself up into a crouching position, zeroing in on Riddle himself. She steadied herself with her tail and her muscles coiled, ready to pounce. She stretched her toes into the dirt and heaved in a sigh, ears flicking back and—her head flew right; a stone just moved against a bunch of leaves.

She snarled inwardly, the scent catching her on the breeze. _Vampire_. Death warmed over. Which came with sharp teeth and an insatiable thirst for blood. She stayed hunched over in the bushes, waiting as the vampire crept ever closer. There was no way she could let it hurt the other students; Riddle would be a huge bonus but the others were so far innocent. They wouldn't commit their crimes until the school year ended and they were named his chief followers and did Riddle's bidding for the rest of their lives. And they would be innocent still if Riddle was dealt with before the school year was out.

Though hard to see with even a human eye in its cover, the vampire stood out like a blazing sun to her nose. It was paused at the edge of the clearing as well, poised to strike, choosing its target. Raddy cursed in her pounding head. There was no way to know which one it would pick; she snarled, pulling her lip back and growling deep in her chest. The boys all paused, whipping around in her direction with their wands out. Some fumbled, obviously startled by the sudden spike in heartrates and sweat production. Riddle, though not able to see her, was looking in her direction. She couldn't make out his eyes from her distance, but his face was a mix of mild curiosity and tenseness. He was caught off guard, which surprised her.

She glanced in the direction of the vampire, which in that moment took the opportunity to strike. It leapt from the shadows it lurked in, hissing and rushing them. Cloaked in blackness with only its face visible; it was male, pale with slicked back hair and fangs exposed. The boys pivoted on their heels towards the new danger, with a few getting off a couple of spells. Riddle expertly threw some offensive spells the vampire's way, but it ducked easily and leapt closer.

Raddy surged from the bushes, not able to sit back and take the risk it would eat one of the others. Fangs bared and snarling her whole body coiled and sprang into action, instinctively knowing what to do against its mortal enemy. The vampire hissed is surprise and anger as the colossal wolf erupted from behind her bushes, and ducked as another spell was aimed at it. All of the boys lost their nerve and stumbled backwards in shock, save Riddle. He swiftly stepped back, and yelled at the others to do the same. He obviously knew a fight they weren't a part of when he saw one. For once she silently thank Riddle for ordering the boys to get out of there, even if it was for his own gain most likely.

The boys were yelling at each other as they clambered to escape, and Raddy stood in the vampire's way. It leapt sideways to go around her, and she effortlessly lunged to snap at its face. She snarled as it hissed and spat at her, lunging for her this time. Raddy scuttled backwards enough that it only managed to grasp at her chest fur, pulling out a clump. It lunged again in quick succession, tackling her shoulder and knocking her to the ground. She snapped at him, catching the color of his cloak in her jaws and ripped it from around his neck. She thrashed as he ploughed her into a hulking tree, and winced as the tree groaned upon collision. She scrambled to her feet and launched a counterattack, fierce and strong, haunches and front quarters moving in graceful tandem.

She was vaguely aware that Riddle for some suicidal reason had chosen to remain behind. Behind a tree with his wand drawn, but he had remained all the same. Her instincts were kicking in to simply protect. This was vermin and she _must_ protect, no matter the cost, no matter the consequence.

She caught its shoulder with her jaw and tossed it sideways into a tree in repayment, and growled as the force caused the trunk to splinter. It recovered quickly and they danced around each other, lunging and snapping, snarling and spitting. She anticipated its next attack, and ducked her head underneath its poised talons to chance a strike at its side, biting down and drawing tangy, oozing blood. It screamed and she hurried to let go, feeling it moving swiftly at her should too late; she couldn't shake it in time as is grabbed a solid hold and wasted no time in using as much force as it could to squeeze.

The crunch of her bones was enough to stagger her, the sudden explosion of fire and pain in her shoulder was enough to catch her off guard; she stood on three legs, one hanging limply and dragging on the ground. It wasn't a compound fracture, so there was that at least. But it was bleeding, and it was bleeding enough to cause it concern. Werewolf saliva counteracted the congealing agent in vampire blood. It clutched its chest and she panted on the spot, wavering on her feet. The throbbing in her head and the shooting pain in her shoulder was almost unbearable, but she stayed her ground and stood between it and Riddle. She snarled and spat and swished her tail, ears back as flat as they could go. She carried on, limping towards it, desperate. It made towards her but screamed as a flash of a spell hit it squarely in the chest, and sent it flying. Wounded and bleeding, the vampire hefted itself to its feet and vanished back the way it came in a blur of black. They were obviously too much trouble just for a meal.

She glanced behind her at Riddle, a tightening in her chest as she realised he had saved her life. He was standing there with his wand still raised, gazing in the direction the vampire had stood. She shifted on her feet and his eyes shot to her, wand following close behind. She could hear his heart beating against his ribcage, his breath came in short puffs out his mouth. He was slightly paler than normal. She held his gaze a moment longer, amber boring into grey. Her stature softened, and he lowered his wand to point towards the ground when he realised she wasn't going to attack him. He stepped forward a few steps, stopping to gauge her reaction.

All she could feel was the strength and adrenaline seeping from her bones, being replaced with the pain and weariness of her heart and mind. She let him get close enough to be within arm's reach before gazing down at him again, snorting as he reached out to touch her destroyed leg. His wand shot up to her face, pointing directly between her eyes. His reaction times were good, she would give him that. But she couldn't let him touch her. She stepped backwards, leg dragging, and turned around and stumbled back into the darkness. She had had her adventure for the night, it was time to go and wait out the pain before turning back and going to bed.

* * *

Riddle's heart was still pounding as the vampire left. It had sprung out of nowhere after a growl from the bushes. Adrenaline hummed through his body, his hands shaky from it. Though he had not expected anything to occur, he had not been unprepared for such an attack. It was important to remain vigilant at all times. His lackeys would require a lecture later on their undignified behaviour throughout the ordeal, though he did admit that they were still not as strong of will as he would have liked.

He looked to the wolf, which towered over him. He might estimate that he barely came up to its shoulder. It was staring at him, amber eyes glowing in the moonlight. He frowned as he noticed one of its front legs hanging limply, paw dragging on the ground. Its shoulder stuck at a funny angle, but there was no visible skin breakage. Not that he probably would have been able to tell anyway, through the thick black fur. Its sides heaved with effort, and it shifted slightly on its feet. His wand shot up to point at it, lest it decide he was a good enough meal. He wasn't entirely sure the reason he was still standing in the clearing; he had stayed for the fight to ensure his pathetic followers might live, it would be rather problematic to explain away a dead student wandering on a moonlit night, even for him. But by what appeared to him, the fight had almost gone badly for the creature in front of him, if he hadn't have cast a spell to drive the vampire away.

He relaxed a bit as the wolf just stared at him some more, a pained gleam in its eye. He wondered where it had come from; it wasn't a natural animal that was clear. But to traverse the forest on tonight of all nights towards the castle… most peculiar. It blinked at him, watching. He wasn't sure what it was waiting for, only that he felt if he made a movement that it would scamper off into the night. And he didn't want it to do that, he was curious as to what it was doing here. Vampires were more commonplace than they used to be, due to the Great War raging around outside the safe refuge of the castle. And they could hide in plain sight, with humans being none the wiser of their presence. To be honest he had never met neither a vampire nor werewolf in person, so he couldn't say with certainty if there were any tells to be read. But there was something odd about this one; it wasn't feral like they were meant to be. It wasn't feasting on him obviously, and it had protected them from the vampire in an impressive display of grace and brutal strength.

And now it was gazing at him plainly, as if expecting him to do something. He was uncertain what it wanted, but before he could step forward and do anything, it shuffled around and limped off into the depths of the forest, melting into the black quietly. Riddle waited a few moments in silence before making his own way back towards the castle and towards bed.

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 **If you've made it to the bottom of this short chapter, thank you for reading thus far! It's appreciated a lot, and I hope to perhaps see you at the next chapter :)**


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